The End of an Era
by insaneantics21
Summary: Something happens to the town of Lima that sends one of its residents into a downward spiral. Follows 'Match Made in Weird Hell' and 'It Started with a Taste'.


**Pairings:** Quinn/Rachel, Santana/Brittany, Santana/Breadsticks, Puck/Waffles Minor/Mentions: Quinn/Bacon, Rachel/Bedazzler, Mercedes/Tots  
**Author's Note:** Follows Match Made in Weird Hell and It Started With a Taste

* * *

Quinn Fabray understood obsessions. She was obsessed with bacon, her girlfriend couldn't go a day without bedazzling something, and her best friend could put away a wheelbarrow of Breadstix' breadsticks in a matter of minutes. The last one of those is why she wasn't shocked that she was currently holding Rachel's hand and walking a too-familiar path to the Lima Mall security office.

"Quinn, this is absolutely insane. Santana needs to learn her lesson."

"I'm not leaving her in there with some creepy security guard, Rachel. We'll get her and get back to your house soon, I promise."

When the pair reached the security office they were greeted by Greg, the officer that generally patrolled the food court, who was on his way out. He nodded at Quinn and tilted his head in the direction of where they could pick Santana up for whatever it was she'd done. Frank, a belligerent old bastard that was always walking around muttering things like "damn teenagers" acknowledged their presence with a growl.

"Who you here to get?"

"Santana Lopez," Quinn sighed. "Again."

"Gotta be a parent."

"Her parents are out of town," Rachel said. "I assure you that, if released into our custody, Ms. Lopez will be properly escorted off of the mall grounds. I trust her offense wasn't anything that put others in danger?"

"She tried to steal the Breadstix sign. It's the second time she's been caught."

Both Rachel and Quinn only nodded silently while Frank shuffled back to the back and emerged again with a very, very angry looking Santana Lopez.

"One more strike and you're banned," Frank growled.

"Yeah, whatever."

"Come on," Quinn sighed. "You so owe me for this."

Santana's face lit up and Quinn scowled. "Did I twatswat you guys?"

"Very much so," Rachel mumbled.

Santana fistpumped and laughed. It earned her a punch in each arm from the girl on either side of her.

As the trio emerged from the mall security office they walked through the (un-naturally crowded) food court to get to the parking lot when Rachel was nearly knocked to the ground by a giant waffle. No, really.

"Dude, sorry," the guy said. "Here, have a coupon!"

Quinn snatched up the piece of paper, advertising for half off a plate of waffles at a waffle kiosk in the middle of the food court.

"Honestly, who loves waffles enough for there to be a kiosk dedicated to them?" Rachel huffed. "They probably don't even provide vegan friendly options."

Santana snorted as they passed the Breadstix sign but Quinn hardly noticed; her attention was focused on what she could see of the back of a familiar looking head standing excitedly at the waffle kiosk and loading up a tray with four different plates of waffle stacks.

"No way."

"What?" Rachel perked her head up and began surveying, Quinn knew she spotted what she did when Rachel let out a mystified squeak.

"Oh my God, we totally have to go bust his balls."

Before Quinn and Rachel could do anything, Santana was off and heading toward the table where part of a mohawk was sticking up out of a waffle-shaped hat shoved down on Noah Puckerman's head. He was by himself at the small table, his tray of waffles before him, and practically drooling.

"Yo, Puckerman!"

Puck jerked his head up and Quinn shrugged and mouthed an, "I'm sorry" for Santana as the three approached his table. Puck cowered over his waffles and shot daggers up at the girls as they stood there. Santana smirked, Quinn quirked an eyebrow, and Rachel looked simply uninterested as she dug through her bag to produce a mirror to fix her makeup.

"A waffle hat?" Santana snarked. "Seriously? So not sexy."

"What do you care?" he growled back. "You've got a girl."

"Doesn't mean I can't look. But really, you look like a moron."

"Shut the hell up. If there were a freakin breadstick walking around here you'd probably hump it."

The retort rendered Santana speechless for a moment before she punched Puck in the bicep and reached for one of his waffles. Quinn knew it was a mistake the minute that Santana's arm started to move. It took both Quinn and Rachel to grab onto Puck's arm and hold him back from stabbing Santana with the plastic fork he was wielding.

"What the fuck, Puckerman!"

"Get away from my waffles!"

"God, you don't have to stab me, you freakin' psycho.

"You'd totally stab me if I tried to take your breadsticks."

"Screw you."

"Seriously, though. Waffles?"

"Waffles are like, the world's most perfect food. They have little cups to hold the syrup and butter, you can put freakin' anything in them and they taste awesome, and they shut kids up. My aunt gives frozen ones to my cousin and she stops crying or whatever. It's awesome."

Quinn glanced down at her watch and then over at Rachel who only rolled her eyes and pretended to look interested in whatever Puck had to say. Santana snorted, Puck growled.

"While your lecture on breakfast foods is so very enthralling, Noah, I'm afraid we must be going. Enjoy your waffles."

"Totally."

"God, you're a loser."

Quinn rolled her eyes and grabbed Santana's arm, dragging the laughing Latina out of the mall and to the parking lot.

"One day, Lopez," Quinn growled, "karma will bite you in the ass."

XXXXXXXXXX

It wasn't a shock when the waffle kiosk at the mall closed. People just weren't into waffles. Well, most people. Puck had shown up in the choir room one morning looking like he was about to die after having taken advantage of the kiosk's offer to feed him as many waffles as he wanted since he'd pretty much kept the stand open singlehandedly for its entire run. All he could do was lie down on the risers and fall asleep. Quinn was more shocked than pissed that he'd walked in on her and Rachel making out up against the piano because all he'd done was wave to them, groan, and fall asleep. He didn't ask to watch or join in.

It _was_ a shock, though, when Breadstix announced their closure. They'd only renovated three years before but the building had failed inspection and it would cost more to fix the crumbling foundation or re-build than was worth it, the owners decided. The day the announcement was made on WOHN and in the Lima News it sent a wave of fear through the school.

It was rumored that Santana didn't actually come to school that day but numerous students saw a wave of black hair and WMHS sweatsuits darting through the halls. No one was absolutely sure, though. It could've been the rumored ghost of that one girl that ventured into the lone third-floor bathroom at night and never returned.

Glee club was silent as they waited a few extra minutes for Santana to possibly show up. Quinn had texted her best friend, legitimately concerned after hearing the Breadstix news on the radio that morning, but had never gotten a response. Brittany looked all day as though someone had kicked her cat, and Rachel had mentioned something about investing in head-to-toe paintball gear to protect herself from a random outburst of breadsticks withdrawal.

There was a collective gasp when through the door came Santana, hair completely disheveled and in her grey WMHS sweats, clutching a box of tissues and a Breadstix flyer. No one dared speak or make any sudden movements as Santana shuffled to a seat in the front row and collapsed into the chair.

"So," Mr. Schuester was the first one brave enough to speak. "I think I found a song you'll all like. It's a classic but I think you all have probably heard it. It's by Styx..."

Quinn jumped when a loud wail came from her left and Santana began babbling about garlic and bread and other things presumably related to breadsticks. Quinn almost found it ridiculous but the thought of what would happen if the world stopped suddenly producing bacon made her tear up a little and so all she could do was reach over and put a hand on Santana's shoulder.

"Oh for the love of God, Satan!" Mercedes shouted. "They're just breadsticks!"

"How would you feel if they stopped making tots?" Santana wailed before grabbing a tissue and loudly blowing her nose, earning a collective "ew" aside from Mercedes who looked incredibly horrified.

"Maybe we should just cancel practice," Mr. Schuester finally spoke. "Let everyone calm down a little."

There was a collective nod; Quinn grabbed her bag and watched Brittany literally pick Santana up and carry her out of the choir room like a kid. There were no questions asked.

XXXXXXXXXX

It took a week before Santana didn't burst into tears upon hearing the words "bread", "sticks", or anything that sounded even remotely close to the two. In order to make her feel better, Quinn, Rachel, Puck, and Mercedes each gave up their bacon, bedazzling, waffles, and tots for a few days. It would've gone on longer but six teachers, Principal Figgins, the owner of the Lima Butcher Shop, the owners of two craft stores, and the local Wal-Mart manager all sent letters to the various households to please have the students resume whatever behavior would keep them from lashing out in class and/or pressing their faces against store windows/refrigerator doors every day.

Santana's birthday was going to be the worst, Quinn knew. It had been tradition since the restaurant opened for the Lopez family (plus Brittany) to go to Breadstix. However, a random ad on Google when she was searching for nearby Italian restaurants could quite possibly change it all.

In the ad was a picture of what looked eerily similar to Breadstix' breadsticks. It was a company in the Dominican advertising that they were now shipping to anywhere in the US. It took thirteen seconds for Quinn to get her emergency credit card and start punching in numbers. Seven days later there was a box being handed to her and she handed over a generous tip to the delivery boy and immediately went to the kitchen where Rachel was waiting.

"Are those really the same ones?" Rachel asked, handing over a box cutter.

"They better be. Shipping was ridiculous."

They _looked_ like Breadstix' breadsticks. They _smelled_ like Breadstix' breadsticks. The question is, did they _taste_ like Breadstix' breadsticks? Only one person would be able to tell. Quinn grabbed the bag out of the box and she and Rachel headed to her car and drove across town to the Lopez house. Quinn didn't bother knocking, she waltzed in and went straight to Santana's bedroom where the Latina was in bed staring at a Breadstix flier and Brittany was on the floor playing with Charity.

"Sometimes she cheers her up when I bring Charity over," Brittany sighed. "Not today."

"Brittany, I believe Quinn and I have found the cure for Santana's breadstick blues."

"Go away, dwarf. I don't care."

"Santana, if you would just listen..."

"No, you listen to me," Santana growled. She sat up on her bed and threw the flier to the floor, shaking her head. "Breadstix is where my parents took me when I found out I was going to have my tonsils taken out. It's where we always go when my brother comes home on leave. It's where B and I were right before our first kiss, it's where I pulled my head out of my ass and realized I was in love with her. It's not just the sticks. It's my fucking _life_, okay?"

"I had no idea," Rachel mumbled. "But the breadsticks help?"

"Well fuck yeah, they do."

"Then here." Quinn tossed the bag of breadsticks on the bed and watched Santana tear into it like a rabid wolf after a raw steak. She immediately shoved three breadsticks in her mouth and started chomping. The look on her face was somewhere around absolute shock and something close to orgasmic.

"Whah di oo fine this?"

"Internet."

"They tha sa' uns!"

"Thought so."

"Oh mah gah. Qui' oo..." Santana swallowed. "You fucking rock!"

"Yeah, I know."

"Seriously, if I weren't dating the hottest girl ever I would probably kiss you."

"Pardon? What about me?"

"What about you, Smurfette?"

"I'm dating Quinn."

"Against my wishes."

"Santana, eat more breadsticks."

With the sound of crunching going on in the background, Quinn and Rachel both sat on the floor to play with Charity and Quinn sent up a prayer of thanks for averting a possible crisis. All was well...until Quinn's cell phone rang.

"Dude, did you hear that Kellogg might discontinue Eggo?"


End file.
